


Back on the Horse

by aewriting



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Homophobia, M/M, PTSD, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:34:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21513115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aewriting/pseuds/aewriting
Summary: Still traumatized from the shed, Alex attempts his first hookup since Michael.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 27
Kudos: 99





	Back on the Horse

**Author's Note:**

> Please be aware, this contains a frank discussion of Alex's thoughts following the events of the shed, and a description of sexual situations.

There were actual fucking cowboys where he grew up. Real ones.

He’d ridden a horse before, too. It was something people did. Like, kids’ birthday parties and stuff. You could go to a real ranch, ride a real horse. He’s sure they always picked the calmest ones, the nicest ones.

He’d never gotten super into it. He thinks he could have been good at it, once upon a time. There just wasn’t an interest, though. He’d preferred skateboarding. Video games. Computers.

Boys.

He remembers the one birthday party, watching one of the moms chat up the hot cowboy that was tending to the horses.

“I’ve always wanted to learn to ride,” she’d said. Alex realizes, now, the double meaning.

At the time, he’d been paying much more attention to the cowboy. “You need to show ‘em who’s boss.”

“Mmm, but they’re so big. Such strong animals. Beautiful, really.”

The cowboy’d laughed, at that.

Alex doesn’t remember what else they’d said, before another mom had cut in. Seemed actually legitimately interested in lessons for her daughter. Other mom seemed disappointed. Wandered away a little. Kept trying to make eyes at the cowboy.

Like, Alex was young, but even he’d known what she wanted.

“Have you ever been thrown?” the second mom asked, concerned.

Hot cowboy had nodded. “Of course. Trick is to just get back on the horse.”

He needs to get back on the horse.

That’s why he’s here.

He’s terrified.

***

Seven and a half weeks.

Seven and a half weeks of basic training.

Then tech school. Computers. Fine by him. He’s… he’s not in this to be goddamn Top Gun. 

Dad knows shit about computers. This could give him an advantage.

He feels stronger and more hollowed out. More confident and more lost.

It’s weird.

For the first time, he has money of his own. A new body. New skills.

A gaping fucking hole where his heart should be.

***

It’s his fourth week at tech school. For the first time in over three months, he’s able to wear his own clothes, do his own thing for an entire weekend. He’s been at Lackland the whole time, for basic and tech.

He’s careful. He gets a ride into downtown San Antonio. Gets a cheap motel room, pays cash. He wears a hat over his fucking buzzcut. He wants to rent a car and drive 8 hours to Roswell. To Michael.

He doesn’t dare. He doesn’t fucking dare.

***

He’d stolen his oldest brother’s ID last Christmas. He’d been so pissed. Had no idea where it went. They look the most alike. Especially now, with the fucking haircut. The bouncer doesn’t even look twice. Alex exhales.

He… he needs to get back on the horse. He’ll be damned if he lets his dad take this from him.

At first, after everything, he couldn’t even get himself off without a panic attack. He’d been alone in the shower, had a panic attack, told no one. Quietly freaked the fuck out.

It happened again.

The third time, it wasn’t as bad. Even now, he wouldn’t say it’s good, wouldn’t say he’s enjoying it, but it’s getting there. It’s easier.

He wonders about Michael. Is he dealing with this too? Does… does he still want Alex? Does he hate him?

***

He’s gotten drunk before, with Maria. A pilfered bottle of tequila from the bar, a little weed. He orders a whiskey tonight. Neat. Drinks it slowly. Liquid courage, he thinks. God, he needs it.

He needs to just do this. With a stranger. Someone he’ll never see again, someone he doesn’t care about.

If he flips the fuck out, he doesn’t want to care.

He’d care with Michael. Of course he would.

But somehow, he thinks Michael might understand.

***

There’s interest. A lot of it. It’s almost shocking. So many years of being the freak, the outcast, the object of scorn and ridicule, and suddenly here, in this place, he’s desirable. In demand. Like, he has his pick. It’s bizarre. It’s flattering. It’s fucking scary.

He goes with a younger guy. Still older than Alex, though. Says he’s a bartender. Alex wonders if he should warn him that he’s fucked up. Warn him that he’s going to be on edge, warn him that he might flip the fuck out after he comes, bolt, panic…

He says nothing. Makes sure they have protection. Lets himself look at the guy as he strips his clothes off, eager.

He looks nothing like Michael. Good.

***

He’s facedown, at Alex’s insistence. No eye contact. He just… he doesn’t know how he’ll react. What if he fucking cries, freaks out? This… this gives him a buffer, buys him time.

It was so different, with Michael. So different.

He’s relieved, though, that he can still feel, that this feels good, that he wants this. He really does. And then he’s getting close, his heart rate is speeding up, and he feels the anxiety building. He doesn’t say anything. Bites the comforter. Guy’s probably flattered. It’s not about him.

***

The guys finishes. Wants to suck Alex off. It’s not how things ended with Michael. Alex thinks it’s probably different enough that it’ll be okay.

It is, barely.

Guy probably thinks Alex is a little bit of an asshole, kicking him out so fast, the way he does. Maybe Alex _is_ a little bit of an asshole. He wants to tell him that things ended worse, so much worse, the last time. With the last guy. The only guy. He doesn’t, of course. Of course he doesn’t.

He showers, a long, hot one. Freaks out a little. Cries. Curses himself out for crying. Cries again, for Michael this time. For the kids they used to be, just a few months ago. For what they almost had. What they’ll never have, can’t have because of his Dad.

No point staying here any longer. He dresses, gets some food, gets a cab back to base.

The civvies are off, and Alex is in his bed at Lackland, the narrow single bunk. He’s… glad it worked, he guesses. Glad Jesse didn’t kill this for him.

He’s already killed enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.


End file.
